


Small Steps

by papergardener



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Confrontations, Dancing, Drama, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Oops, Plus Est En Vous, Post-Canon, but I can't avoid angst to save my soul, meant to be a one-shot, this was meant to be fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23073703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/papergardener/pseuds/papergardener
Summary: “Enough!” Cassandra was on her feet, her hand slicing through the air as she rounded on Varian. It was impossible to miss the look in his eyes, or the way he startled back.She winced, squeezing her hands tight. “I don’t want to talk about it.”“I think you’re going to have to,” Varian said softly.~ ~ ~After the battle Varian and Cassandra have a heart to heart, and they’re not the only ones.
Relationships: Cassandra & Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Rapunzel & Varian
Comments: 43
Kudos: 171





	1. Cassandra and Varian

**Author's Note:**

> I got into this show like two weeks ago… just in time for the finale!  
> Originally this was written pre-finale and I had hoped to post it as an AU, but after watching it I realized it only needed minor tweaks to make it work, and its all the better for it (still think they should have magically fixed the town because holy crap the property damage is insane!).
> 
> A tremendous thank you to [AmateurWordBender](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amateurwordbender/pseuds/amateurwordbender) for being so incredibly supporting and a truly wonderful beta!
> 
> This was originally meant to be a one-shot... it got away from me.

“So, what happens now?” Cassandra asked in a low voice, head bowed over her clasped hands.

Varian looked sideways at her, contemplating.

Hours had passed since the eclipse, the defeat of Zhan Tiri, and the last great act of the sundrop and moonstone. The people of Corona returned not long after, having been witness to the sudden, fantastic disappearance of the black rocks. Varian had found Cassandra away from the crowds, away from the castle, looking both stony and brittle. So he sat with her, perched on the edge of a raised stone pathway, their feet brushing the long stretch of green grass sloping towards the commons in the center of the city.

The space now echoed with loud voices remarking on and rejoicing over their victory, but also calculating the great damage done. The roads alone would take months to repair, along with the countless ruined homes and shops. It would take time, certainly, and hard work. And the cost? That was perhaps more scary than the demon was. Men and women tapped wooden beams and traced edges of shattered windows, calculating their meager earnings and the cost of rebuilding.

It was her fault. The people of Corona had suffered for her mistakes, and they would keep suffering as life fought to return to normalcy. The prospective future loomed, terrible and vague, rearing up like a shadow-swathed demon ready to consume Corona and Cassandra’s own soul. How could she move forward?

“I might be the wrong person to ask,” Varian said at last, lifting his chin to better stare at the fading sun dipping towards the sea, streaking the sky pale pink and blue. 

Cassandra hunched further down, clasping her hands tighter. He was right. It was the princess—the king and queen too, she supposed—who would decide her fate. From where she sat she could see Rapunzel walking among her people. She was no longer quite as easy to spot without that bright golden hair, yet the eye still seemed to naturally draw towards her. As she watched, Rapunzel absently reached a hand up to touch the ruffled edges at her neck, apparently still not accustomed to the new weight of it. But it suited her. Even without the magic of the sundrop, she had a natural, brilliant glow.

One more thing Cassandra had been envious of.

“You don’t need to be here,” Cassandra said suddenly, the words cold and sharp. She didn’t trust herself around others—not when she felt like she was made of shards of glass and chips of stone.

Varian shrugged, doing nothing more than idly waggle one foot back and forth, digging the heel into the soft dirt. His presence became a growing itch, and she held back on scratching it and lashing out. She neither wanted nor needed the boy’s pity, especially not then, not after all that she had done. But she had to stop getting angry at the world, so she forced herself to lean back and let out a long slow breath, her shoulders clicking from her bad posture. Once she would have cared about that, always holding herself straight and taut. Not anymore.

Now, she was tired. Now, she was powerless. And now she really shouldn’t be getting angry at Varian. At least she still had her freedom. So far—surprisingly—no guards had arrived to cuff her and escort her to the dungeons. It was… odd.

“Wait a minute.” She quirked an eyebrow, considering Varian again. “You’re not here on someone’s orders, are you? To make sure I don’t escape?”

Varian returned the eyebrow raise. “How would I even stop you? You could just punch me. But I’d much rather you not!” he added quickly.

“Oh, don’t give me the innocent act,” she said, jabbing a finger towards him. “I know you’ve always got some alchemy trick hiding up your sleeve.”

“Nope, fresh out!” he said, holding his hands up and his arms wide. “Used up everything I had before the fight.”

“Oh.” She sank down, hunching over her arms again. “Right.”

She plucked at her sleeve, the edge slightly frayed. After the battle she had returned to her room, feeling almost-naked in the thin, skin-tight fabric, all that remained of that wonderful black armor. Amidst the wreckage she’d found her old guard outfit: the deep red undershirt and heavy gray tunic, a thick leather belt snug on her waist. She forwent the sword that normally sat heavy on her shoulder, and similarly took no knife, no weapon. It left her vulnerable. So did the clothing itself, but it was a far cry better than her handmaiden dress, and of course armor would have been all wrong, given the circumstances.

She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do now. Initially she had joined the efforts to clean up—she was no mason and had no skills in carpentry or stonework, but she could push a broom to clean up shattered glass, and could help lift heavy rubble onto carts to be taken out of the city. But after a while it became hard to ignore the mutters and the glares on her back, burning like a midsummer sun. It was safer retreating to where it was quiet.

A new sound rose from the commons, catching both their attention. The loud staccato tune of a tabor drum—rap-tap tap-a-tap-tap—heralded the start of a dance. Almost immediately, it was followed by the high matching sound of a pipe. It was a signal to lay down one’s tools, wipe away the day’s sweat, and rejoice in their return home. A chattering couple walked past, skirting well around them and heading towards the swelling crowd. Lanterns were lit, and though there was little food to be had—the usual hard bread of barley and rye, bubbling pottage with young leeks and wild chicory leaves—there was apple cider in relative abundance and wine, watered down though it was.

Then the whine of a string instrument rose up on the wind, this one a cheerful fiddle. Knowing the town, a dance would soon erupt like a bright flame from a smoking ember. The townspeople were good about that, going on with their lives no matter what might have overcome them.

Did they even know that the one who had caused all of the trouble was sitting so close? If they knew, would they still be celebrating, or would they be pulling out their pitchforks and torches?

“They’ll never forgive me,” Cassandra said softly, staring hard at the crowd and tightening her clasped hands until they stung. 

Varian frowned. “You don’t know that. You can’t know until you’ve given them a chance, believe me.”

“I’ve done too much damage. It’s far too late,” Cassandra said, gritting her teeth as fury rose up like a tongue of flame. “They _should_ hate me.”

The dancing had begun now, sure enough. The loud, reedy whine of a shawm had joined in, adding depth to the thinness of the strings as men and women stepped forward and linked hands, a traditional bourrée with its quick skipping steps and familiar beat. She no longer belonged there. 

“But you helped to defeat that demon Zhan Tiri,” Varian said, as if she might have forgotten in the past two hours. “You helped save Corona!”

“I was the one trying to destroy it. Look around!” Cassandra waved a hand, not needing to look around herself to see the results of the black rocks that _she_ had created. “Zhan Tiri didn’t do this!” 

“But—“

“Enough!” Cassandra was on her feet, her hand slicing through the air as she rounded on Varian. It was impossible to miss the look in his eyes, or the way he startled back. She winced, squeezing her hands and forcing herself to breathe. “Enough. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I think you’re going to have to,” Varian said softly.

Cassandra clapped her hands over her head and turned away, shutting her eyes and wishing she could shut her ears. Shut the whole world out. It would be nice if she could just disappear—just for a while—so she could work out these feelings in peace. Or, alternatively, bottle them up and shove them deep, deep down so she wouldn’t have to bear the shame and the hurt. Then she wouldn’t have to think about it, or talk about it. For so long, she had managed to twist everything in her mind so that she was the victim, that she was doing the right thing. Now… now, it all seemed so petty, so damn selfish and cruel.

Varian was right. She was the villain.

“Cass…” 

“No. Look, you don’t understand—“

“Are you kidding?” Varian said angrily, his face pinched. He was also on his feet, shoulders squared as if ready for a fight. “I don’t understand? Did you forget everything I’ve done?”

“No, but…” Cassandra groaned, grinding her hand in her hair, unreasonably annoyed. “This is different.”

“Really? How do you figure _that_ one out?”

“It’s—you were trying to save your father!”

“What does that matter?” he cried, throwing his arms wide. “Who cares why I did it; I nearly destroyed Corona _twice!_ I mean…” He scoffed, his eyes flickering, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Do you really need me to list off all of my crimes?”

“No! But—“

“Because there’s a lot!”

“This isn’t about you!” Cassandra said, and the words stung as she heard them. But she had done far worse things, hadn’t she?

“Yes it is!” Varian shouted, yet there was a quaver in his voice, some strange pain that didn’t make sense, until it did.

“How—“

“Cass, I tried to kill you!”

For some moments they held each other’s gaze. Varian’s were bluer, brighter than before. He was the first to look away.

“I-I haven’t forgotten that, okay?” he said, his voice trembling. “I know what I did. I… I tried to—“

Cassandra bit her lip. “Varian, don’t—“

“I’m not going to pretend it didn’t happen,” he said in a stronger voice, still not looking at her.

He was taller than before, Cassandra realized. He had grown, becoming less like the child she had first met: insane, brilliant, with a faint hint of a crush on her. After their time apart, she was seeing just how much he had changed.

But even now, he still seemed so small.

“Varian…”

“I’m not going to make excuses.” He hugged his arms tight around himself. “Yeah, I was angry, and yeah, I felt betrayed, but that’s not a valid reason. A lot of people got hurt because of me. Including you.” He finally looked at her again. “Cass, I’m sorry.”

Cassandra backed away, shaking her head. She didn’t want to hear this. That wasn’t _fair_.

“No.” Cassandra finally managed to pull more than thin air from her tight throat. “You can’t say that, not after everything I did to you. You don’t get to apologize!”

“That’s not how that works!” The spark of a villain still flickered in his eyes at times, and it flickered there now, a sharpness at odds with the rest of him. Or, perhaps, it was his inner strength, a part of him kept hidden from the world. “I’m taking responsibility for my own actions. What you want to do with yours, that’s on you!”

“I know that!” she shouted back, fiery hot and burning, and then suddenly cold. “I know,” she said again, softer, shutting her eyes tight. Guilt and shame threatened to crush her. It was hard to breathe.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, feeling like a dumb child. “Apologies can’t fix the mess I made. I’ve done too much. I’ve hurt too many people.” _Including you, Varian_. “Nothing I can ever do will make up for the pain I caused. I can’t… I don’t have the right to ask for forgiveness. Not now. Whatever you did, you’ve worked to make it better. You earned your redemption! You’ve been helping them this whole time to fight _me_! You helped save Corona!”

“So did you!” 

Cassandra groaned, rolling her head back. “One good deed won’t make up for all of the terrible things I’ve done.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said harshly, surprising her. “Nothing you do will ever change what happened. Believe me, I spent a long time wishing for the same thing, but you can’t change the past. Look, I know you did a lot of terrible things—“ She _really_ shouldn’t feel so offended by that. “I did too. And I’ve worked hard to get better. To _be_ better. It’s not easy. It downright sucks sometimes, and people have long memories. They may not ever forget. But despite all that, it was worth it.”

Cassandra only stared. What did she even say to that? She wanted to argue, or fight, or perhaps weep. But she stood, and tried to really listen. 

“You wonder what’s going to happen?” Varian said, looking evenly at her. “That’s up to you.”

But what if she didn’t trust herself anymore? What was the next step when she had fallen so far? Her reverie was disturbed by harsh, familiar voices.

“What’s going on here?”

Cassandra spun around, seeing two guards approaching with spears and hard, suspicious looks. On reflex she jerked her hand up towards her shoulder before remembering that she didn’t have a sword and that Corona was no longer her enemy. Nonetheless, her skin seemed to buzz, as she braced herself, forcing herself to straighten, hands loose at her sides. She was not good at being demure or subservient, and that, of course, only annoyed them more. 

“What are you two doing?” one guard said, eyeing Cassandra, who stared stonily back, saying nothing. Why were they not immediately seizing her? Did they have orders to the contrary?

“Is she threatening you, boy?” the other guard snapped, looking around Cassandra and staring down at Varian. The ‘boy’ was intentional.

“What?” Varian said, shocked, even stunned. Then, panicked. “No, no, no! It’s fine!” He leapt between Cassandra and the guards, throwing his arms up, both placating and protecting. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just talking!” 

“Is that so?” the other guard said, glaring hard at Cassandra.

“Yeah! We’re just… talking.” Varian stumbled on the last word, his nerves besting him.

The two guards exchanged a hard look. Why weren’t they arresting them? Or at least her?

The cheerful music seemed very far off. Cassandra had forgotten all about it until they stood there in a tense standoff, silent except for the rapid pipe and drum that set the time.

“Fine. We’ll let this pass,” the first said at last, with some difficulty.

“Best be careful, though,” the other guard said in a much different voice, stepping closer to Varian and forcing him to take a step back, nearly stumbling. “You wouldn’t want to get too close with a _traitor,_ now would you?”

With a quick glare to Cassandra—a silent threat—they left, speartips glinting in the light of the torches. Varian stood staring out, long after the guards had gone, not moving. She could hear his shaking breaths, could see how his shoulders hitched.

 _Traitor_.

The threat was clear: associate with her, and he would get dragged down as well. He was putting himself at risk, after everything he had done to prove himself trustworthy. Because of _her_.

He damn well didn’t deserve that.

“I’ll go,” she said, forcing her eyes to the ground. 

“Huh?” Varian turned, blinking at her. The terror was still in his eyes, in the hitch of his breath.

‘He’s right. You shouldn’t associate with me.” Cassandra made an effort to hold her head up, searching the crowd of dancers. There. Right in their midst were Rapunzel and Eugene, arms linked in the grand circle dance. Even from that distance Cassandra could see the familiar beaming smile, bright as the sun. “You should join them; I’m sure Raps will be happy to see you.” She turned to go. “I don’t need you.”

“Cass, wait!” 

Her whole arm went rigid as Varian reached out, catching hold of her wrist. The last time he had done that…

The night suddenly became much colder. That time in her black tower seemed cruel enough to be a nightmare, except it had been _real_. She had hurt and imprisoned and tortured the boy at her side. It couldn’t have been a nightmare, because he remembered it too—it was clear in the way he paused, the tightness of his fingers. Quietly, without a word, the gloved hand slipped away, leaving her standing alone in the evening breeze. The music in the square seemed to dim, and all she could hear was her own shallow breath. That, and a whispered memory.

_Trust me… becoming the villain isn’t the answer._

She hadn’t listened to him then. She hadn’t wanted to. Instead, she’d pushed him away rather than face what she was truly doing. When he tried to help she had hurt him—badly. There in the aftermath, standing in the dark night, it seemed there was a chasm between them. Cassandra cradled her arm to her chest, squeezing her wrist tight until it stung, the muscles and bone hard beneath her fingers. She should leave. It would be best for everyone—for the whole kingdom—if she went away and never returned. It would be best for Varian to not be near her, for so many reasons. But when she looked over her shoulder, just leaving suddenly seemed cruel. 

Varian had quietly stepped back. The brightness around him had faded; he seemed to sink into his own shadow. He was still just a kid, despite his hard-earned wisdom. Perhaps still as lonely as she.

She needed to apologize.

“Varian?”

His eyes flickered up, big and blue. They flinched at the corners, anxious. Cassandra hesitated, pressing her wrist close to her chest. An apology wasn’t enough. She couldn’t even summon forth the words, because she didn’t understand them yet. It didn’t feel like she had any right to even say this, but…

“Thank you,” she said. “For trying to stop me.”

That caught him off guard, and he straightened, his shoulders dropping. Then he smiled, such a warm, genuine smile that she couldn’t help but answer with her own. Despite it all, she would be sorry to leave him. It was horrible, really, how much she would miss all of this.

A cheer rose up from the commons, catching both their attention. A new song, a new dance. Cassandra recognized this one as well. Men and women alternating in a circle, linking hands and moving fast clockwise for a count, and then swiftly reversing, before they all surged inward, and then back out, surrounded by a fair gathering of spectators. They stood there for a while, watching the crowd as though enchanted, until Varian broke the silence.

“Hey, uh…” Varian bit his lip, shuffling his feet before he gave a broad grin. “Wanna dance with me?”

“What? No. Bad idea.” Cassandra pulled away from him, and pulled further into herself. If she went out there… no good would come of that. “You go. I’m sure there’s other girls you can dance with,” she said, sure her smile was not very reassuring. “Really, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Varian straightened, looking hurt. “I’m just trying to help.”

That irked her. “Why? Why are you helping me? We barely even know each other. We’re not friends. You don’t owe me _anything_ , so why are you still here?” Was it pity? Was it because he had once had a foolish crush on her? 

Varian hesitated, perhaps wondering the same thing. Finally, he said, “Because… I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Cassandra bristled at that. “Funny, that is exactly what I want, so why don’t you do me a favor and leave me be?”

“I know, and maybe you’ll need that time alone to sort things out. I know I did.” Varian looked at her, stating it so casually that it was unnerving. He had spent a year alone in prison, and even longer before that, trusting no one and hating the world while he struggled to save his father, entirely alone. 

“But back then, through all of it, I just wished I had had… someone.” He frowned, chewing his lip and looking pained. “It’s not like I needed someone to tell me what I was doing was right, because it wasn’t. But I just... I wish I hadn’t had to go through all of that alone.” He looked up at her, almost pleading. “I figured, well… I didn’t want you to go through the same thing.”

Once more, he reached out his hand.

After a moment, she stepped forward and gently took hold. Not like she could have said no after that. But once there, the wiser Varian from moments ago simmered away, and he was again a nervous kid. His other hand moved up and down through the air, uncertain whether to lay it on her shoulder, her waist, or take her other hand.

He met her questioning look and let out an embarrassed laugh. “Oh, uh… yeah, forgot to mention… I don’t actually know how to dance.”

Cassandra laughed, shaking her head. Typical. “Good thing I do, then. Watch my feet and copy me.” She tilted her head, gauging the music, minutely nodding her head to the beat. “All right. We start moving left—“

“My left or your left?”

“Same thing, we’re turning. Usually you dance this in a group, but we’ll make do. This dance is called a _branle à mener_. Four steps to the left, then... on your toes, now to the right…”

He was an enthusiastic learner, at least, and thankfully not so enthusiastic as when teaching Rapunzel. The night fell sweetly around them, slightly damp with falling dew that made Cassandra’s bangs stick at times against her skin. The lingering winter chill was gone, and it felt like true spring. It was like old times, before things had fallen apart. It seemed crazy that things could recover after so much, but there they were, dancing like kids without the fate of the kingdom on their shoulders.

“Small steps,” she said, watching their feet as Varian stumbled to match hers. Heels clicked together, then out, then crossed one over the other.

“Small steps,” he repeated under his breath, brow furrowed in concentration as he hopped twice to keep up.

The words struck something in her, quite unexpectedly. It was like the answer to a question she wasn’t sure she had asked.

Dancing there on the uneven grass, under the empty sky with stumbling steps and awkward laughs… it was like cool water against a burning fever. A balm on a burn. She didn’t realize how much lighter her shoulders felt, how much easier it was to breathe. Like returning to herself.

She didn’t know what might happen, but perhaps she could find a way to move forward.

_Small steps._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Next chapter: Eugene and Cassandra get some one-on-one. They’re thrilled, I assure you.
> 
> Couple historical/cultural notes…  
> Apple cider really was a common drink along the western coast of France in previous centuries, but watered down wine was more common for peasants.  
> A shawm is a reed instrument common in history, and in fact you can see one being played in the Kingdom Dance scene in the movie!  
> The branle à mener (also called bransle de Poictou) is a French dance originating in around 1500—then called a branle with regional variations—and standardized into sets by 1623. It is both a traditional folk dance as well as a courtly dance, including in the courts of King Louis XIV, and continues to be danced to this day.  
> Fun fact? Originally the last introduced instrument in this fic was going to be a bodhrán drum, but then discovered it wasn’t used in a musical context until the 1960’s. The more you know!
> 
> (guess who did too much unnecessary research into French historical dances)
> 
> Thank you again for reading!


	2. Cassandra and Eugene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra gets a small dance with Eugene. They're both thrilled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is hanging in there!  
> I thought I'd end up letting out my stress through fic but that's turning out to be harder than I expected, but glad to be getting this out. Between the first chapter and this, I also foolishly started working on another fic... going to still try and finish this!   
> It's always like two paragraphs that twist me up and keep me from posting. As it goes.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and left kudos, they completely make my day!
> 
> Stay safe out there, and take care <3

It was easier to keep time as Varian caught on to the steps and grew more confident, and Cassandra grew more comfortable, feeling more like herself. Not a traitor or a villain or a wounded creature, but Cassandra, truly. Whatever that might mean.

Eventually the song wove down and ended with a final trill of the pipe and shriek of the fiddle. The two stepped apart with faint laughter, mixed with the distant applause and cheers from the lantern-lit commons.

“You weren’t half bad,” Cassandra said with great fondness. On pure impulse, she swiftly bent her head low and kissed him on the cheek. “For old times’ sake,” she said, grinning.

“Ha, works for me,” Varian said, rubbing his cheek and grinning right back, the warm childish look in his eyes. “And hey, if you ever need someone to listen or yell some sense into you, you know where to find me. Whatever happens, you’re gonna make it through.”

“Yeah,” Casandra said, touched, and uncertain how much more of this heart-to-heart she could take all at once, but it helped. Certainly, it helped. “We both will.”

A new voice interrupted from the darkness.

“You two look like you’re having fun.”

“Ah!” Both Cassandra and Varian jumped, scrambling apart and turning towards Rapunzel, who was walking up with a sly grin, Eugene close behind with his usual easy lope.

“Uh—princess!” Varian cried, far too loud; he looked both guilty and apparently trying to recall if he had something to be guilty for.

Cassandra straightened her back and held her breath, waiting. The word traitor echoed around her mind. But besides a quick smiling glance her way, Rapunzel didn’t seem to pay her much mind.

“She’s teaching you all wrong, you know,” Rapunzel said to Varian, putting her hands to her hips.

“Hey!”

“You can’t be so stiff!” Rapunzel said with mock exasperation, ignoring Cassandra’s insulted scoff. She stepped close, hooking her arm around his, which had the effective side-effect of shaking him loose, instead of him standing and apparently trying not to breathe. “Dancing is all about having fun. Not to brag, but I’m something of a dance expert,” Rapunzel said, her voice high and sweet with just a dash of childish arrogance. This time she ignored Eugene’s teasing scoff—and Cassandra’s. She was very good at ignoring them on occasion.

“Dance expert, huh?” Varian said, one eyebrow raised, grinning wide. Perhaps not quite doubtful, but close. Rapunzel decided to ignore that, too.

From over the general undertone of chatter from the crowd there came a rapping on the drum, an instrumental clearing of the throat, followed by a whine of strings and a full-hearted start to another tune in double-time.

“Ooh, I love this one!” Rapunzel cried, practically doing a shimmy in her excitement, before gripping Varian’s arm once more and dragging him off. “Come on, I’ll teach you!”

That left Eugene and Cassandra without their dance partners, while the music played on, humming through the air, quick and joyous. 

They glanced at each other, then quickly away. There was a great deal unsaid between them. Perhaps not as much as the others, but it was there. They had never particularly been friends. Now they weren’t enemies either, technically. So what were they?

“Sooo… wanna… ya know?” Eugene asked, faintly twirling his hand.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and bit back her usual kind of response when dealing with Eugene. But things had changed. A great deal had changed, and she was in no position to argue. She looked at his offered hand, and decided she had nothing else to lose.

They didn’t bother keeping up with the cheerful music, or even really feinting to dance. They held hands, and they stood not too close, stepping back and forth a little but that was the extent of it. Awkwardness hung over them like a cloud of gnats.

“Quite a day, huh?” Eugene said eventually, as annoyingly upbeat as ever, even if there was a false edge to his voice. “You know, when I first got here I thought, eh, cute little town. Nice sea breeze. Roomy. Fancy jewelry in the castle, that’s always a plus. But man, I did not expect it to be this exciting. Like, constantly. Or life-threatening. Or complicated.”

Cassandra didn’t answer, didn’t interrupt. She let him talk and didn’t really listen. He was wearing what should have belonged to her—the pendant marking the captain of the guard.

She tried not to think about that.

“Hey, Cass?”

She started up at that, the shift in his voice, lower and softer, like he was really speaking to her.

“Yes, Captain?” she said.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” he said peevishly, and she relaxed a touch. “It’s weird when you say it.”

Cassandra couldn’t help but grin, and smoothly stepped and pulled, turning them about under the pretense of dancing, just to throw him off a bit.

“Sure, Cap,” Cassandra said.

As they slowly turned, the little remaining light of sunset fell on his face, albeit muted by distant clouds.

Up close, he looked bad. 

He had taken efforts to clean himself up, of course, fixing his hair and clothes, but he couldn’t hide everything. One eye was half-closed, black and battered, and there was a shadow on his jaw that held promise of an ugly purple bruise, given time. And there, barely visible under his hairline, the edge of a bloodied cut on his temple. She wouldn’t be surprised if there were more wounds, hidden.

Those were her fault, weren’t they?

“So uh… how are you… holding up?” Eugene asked.

Cassandra stared, sure she was making a fine impersonation of Owl. It should be illegal for him to ask her that after the day they had. Or year, rather.

“I think I should be asking you that,” she said instead, looking again at that blackened eye. She was tempted to reach out and touch it; she wondered how much it hurt.

“Me? Pff, I’m fine! Never better!”

The bruises spoke otherwise. But then, there were far worse kinds of pain than those of blood and bone. She knew that.

“Definitely probably better than the day I died, anyway,” he continued, grinning at her with his usual devil-may-care attitude.

Their faces both fell at the same time. Oh god, they had that in common now. Death, resurrection, and parental abandonment. Great.

A small “Ow!” nearby caught their attention, and they looked over their entwined hands to the other nearby dancing couple. It seemed Varian had stepped on Rapunzel’s toes.

“I’m surprised you and Raps aren’t dancing the night away to celebrate your victory,” Cassandra said, looking back at her partner. She had meant it to be genuine, but couldn’t quite manage to keep the bite out.

His shoulders fell, just a little. “Victory, yeah. I mean, it’s a good thing no one died—besides, you, of course. No offense.”

Cassandra shrugged. “Eh.”

Now that she was paying attention, she realized he had a slight limp, favoring his left leg. Cassandra changed the direction of their rather dismal pas de deux to make it easier. His hands shifted in hers. If this had been a real dance they would have been doing something more with their hands or their feet, but it was nice not having to think about it.

Again, Eugene glanced over to where Rapunzel was dancing with Varian, raising her knees high to avoid his boots and making them both look like clueless kids. Then he looked further beyond, at the city itself, at the broken ramparts, and sighed, low and hidden.

“It’s hard to feel too happy. Blondie is still hurting pretty bad, I know, and the whole kingdom is still a mess. Plus, you have no idea how much running around I had to do today, even before the battle. And, well…” He shrugged, oddly discordant like his shoulders ached, or like there was some deeper pain that made him twitch. “There was uh… a thing with my dad…”

“Oh.” She dropped her gaze. Right. The day had moved so fast and so strange, she had nearly forgotten about that little side plot.

She needed to apologize here, too… but for what? For hurting Rapunzel? For his own suffering? For setting his own father against him?

“But hey don’t worry! He’s fine. Probably a lot better than me, anyway,” Eugene said, as if he meant to comfort her. And wasn’t that just peachy. “And I don’t know if you knew, but the Brotherhood aren’t under that mind trap spell anymore.”

“What?” She leaned back, squinting at him. How was that possible? How had she not felt it? Was it after she had lost the moonstone?

“Yep. I managed to find your mind trap, but things… kinda got complicated once we reached it.”

“Hm. But you still broke it, in the end,” Cassandra said, trying not to sound bitter.

“Actually, no.” An odd edge came to his voice. Even the way he held himself seemed to shift, subtle though it was. His eyes fell into shadow. “It was my dad who did it. He, well, he…”

They stopped their turns; he stepped away, and she let him. Eugene slowly ran a hand along the back of his neck, a haunted look on his battered, shadowed face.

“He managed to fight the spell,” Eugene said softly. His voice was dark, as were his eyes. There were echoes of demons there. Those were new.

The music had died away. The night fell silent around them but the sound of the breeze and the little night insects. She didn’t know why he was telling her this. Didn’t quite know what he was even saying, or what she should say in reply. She listened close, and she watched, and she wondered about these demons of his, hiding beneath his boyish charm.

“Rapunzel makes forgiveness look so easy,” he said at last, his voice still low. Cassandra glanced over to her, as if on instinct, still with Varian on the same stretch of grass. Huh, they didn’t seem to be doing much dancing either.

“She does, yeah,” Cassandra murmured, turning back. She wanted to say, she shouldn’t. But didn’t Cass want to be forgiven? Did it even matter what she wanted?

“I figured that no matter what, she would forgive you, no matter how much you hurt her,” Eugene said. “But that didn’t mean I would.”

Cassandra froze. In the growing darkness, her eyes caught the golden sunburst that gleamed against the deep blood red of his uniform.

“You shouldn’t,” she said, the words slipping out through clenched teeth as she forced her arms to her sides. Her heart was aching in her chest, suddenly dizzy with emotion, and she turned to leave, she didn’t care where.

“Wait!”

Before she could take a second step Eugene’s voice stopped her short, as well as his hand gripping hers once more, hard. 

“Unless you have something else you need to say,” she said fiercely, rounding on him and feeling brittle. “Leave me alone.”

She didn’t have a right to feel this fragile. She was the one who had caused all this pain. Eugene had been hurt because of her. Badly. Rapunzel and Varian and all the rest had been hurt. She was not the one with bruises running too deep to see. Or, at least, none that she hadn’t caused from her own anger and hubris.

This was her own damn fault.

Eugene’s grip around her loosened a moment, and then tightened.

“Actually, yeah, I do have one thing to say to you.” He stepped closer, pulling her just a little. She dug her heels in, curling her wrist against the pain. 

But still she faced him, chin up and shoulders back. It felt like bracing for a hit.

“What’s that? Stay away from Rapunzel?” Cassandra said, her voice cold and level. “Stay away, or else?”

Hell, he should have a great more to say to her, she thought furiously. Maybe this was good. Maybe she was supposed to stay and bear it. Rapunzel might not shout at her, but he might. 

“Don’t hurt her again.” His voice came out harsh and ragged, and he strengthened his grip on Cassandra’s hand as he said it, hard enough to hurt. She might have taken it as a warning, if she hadn’t been watching his face so closely, if she didn’t see the pain in his eyes. The fear. It wasn’t so much a warning, but a desperate plea.

She let out a sigh, the air chilled as it let loose from her chest. It might have been easier if he had hit her. 

“I won’t,” she said, the brittleness sloughed away, leaving her only worn and soft-bodied. She had no intention of ever hurting Rapunzel again. His hand stayed around hers, but she didn’t fight now. “I promise, I won’t do that again. And…” She struggled, scrunching her face, fighting around her tight throat. This needed to be said.

“And I’m sorry, Eugene.”

The words tasted flat, false. Apologies would never be enough. At last she pulled her arm back, holding herself close and absently pulling at a lock of hair, once again dark and dull. She would never be good at this. “For all of it. I… I know there’s nothing I can ever say that will be enough.”

He was quiet. His eyes studied her; she could feel them. It made her feel young and stupid, but not terribly so.

“She’s already forgiven you,” he said softly. “You know that.”

Cassandra flinched her head to the side. No, she didn’t know that. Or just didn’t want to know. She hadn’t earned forgiveness yet; perhaps she never would.

“Take care of her.” As soon as she said it, she was startled how much it needed to be said. Rapunzel needed a protector. Not always, of course. In fact, protector might be the wrong word after how she had proved herself. But she needed an ally. A friend. Someone who had her back, and could be strong when she

Cassandra wouldn’t be there to protect her anymore.

That realization, absurdly, hurt a very great deal.

“Take care of her,” Cassandra said again, stronger this time. This was important. “She’ll need you. She needs someone to protect her, to balance her out, to guide her...”

She won’t have me there anymore.

Cassandra hated herself for that thought. As if she had any right.

“I will,” Eugene said, as solemn as an oath. “You know I will, always.”

Cassandra nodded. That was good. Besides, Rapunzel would be a lot safer without her around, anyway. Especially now the black rocks were gone, and the kingdom again at peace. Her good hand clutched at the coarse fabric of her tunic, twisting it about. 

Once more her gaze fell to the starburst on his chest, before rising to meet his eyes. The outfit suited him, and not just for his looks. He had changed again. He stood tall, but easy. Like Varian he had grown. Matured. Or perhaps this had always been inside him, and it was only now Cassandra could see it.

“And I really had to admit it, but you’ll be a great captain of the guard. And, as a parting gift…” She paused, deciding whether or not she would regret this. “I give you my halberd.”

“Really?” Eugene lay a hand to his heart, giving her those eyes he normally reserves for Rapunzel or for getting out of trouble. Or for mocking her. “Your favorite battle ax? Aw, that’s so sweet. I’ll think of you every time I shave with it.”

She pressed her lips together. “See, this is why we’re not friends.”

He let out a short laugh, which did her heart a world of good. Despite the ghosts and the bruises, he was doing okay. He was doing better.

Maybe they both were, little by little.

He clapped a hand to her shoulder, a move that felt oddly familiar. Like one soldier to another, or perhaps a friend. “Really, though, Cass. It’s good to have the old you back. Or the new-new you.”

Then, as if on instinct, he pulled her forward into an embrace, startling her. Her first instinct was to push him away; to defend herself as if from an attack. But his arms were strong and warm, and after a moment she allowed herself to relax, resting her chin on his shoulder.

He gave a good hug, the bastard.

“And so you know… I forgive you, too,” he murmured.

She winced, but didn’t pull back; instead, she held tighter. “You’re an idiot,” she said, her voice strained.

“Yeah. You’ve told me that before.” He slowly sidestepped, never breaking their embrace, and she was grateful for the excuse to not let go. They must have looked absurd, she thought, dancing tight like young fools in love. She didn’t mind so much. It was an easy silence that finally broke them apart as another song ended.

“You should talk to her,” Eugene said, his head turned towards Rapunzel. The lantern light from the commons cast a soft glow into the sky, reflecting on them all.

“I know.” Cassandra let out a breath as if she’d been holding it too long. “In a few minutes. Just… give me that.” A few minutes. Or she wouldn’t mind much longer. Maybe it could wait until morning. Or a year later. She was greatly weary, and wasn’t sure she could handle much more of this emotional stuff.

“Oh? A few minutes dancing alone with me?” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

She groaned, her head rolling back. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Payback.”

“Hmm.” Cassandra gave a slight lift of her shoulders. “Fair enough. Do you even know how to dance the rigadoun?”

He scoffed, cocking his hip and putting a hand to his chest. “I am offended you would even ask.”

She felt a familiar crooked grin on her face as she took his offered hand, half-curtsying to match his mocking bow. “We’ll see about that.”

With that, they began to dance for real under the stars, stepping forward and back around each other, arms extended and out as they turned about, smiling sweetly and trying to step on each other’s toes.


	3. Varian and Rapunzel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Varian and Raps get a moment to chat as well.

"This is gonna be great! Cassandra taught me the court version of this one,” Rapunzel said, looking over her shoulder as she lead the way to a quieter part of the open green space, Varian’s arm in the crook of hers. “But to be honest, it’s nowhere near as fun as the regular one.”

“Ha, whatever you say, princess,” Varian said, good-natured.

Rapunzel almost missed a step but quickly caught herself. “I already told you,” she said, her smile tight. “Just Rapunzel.”

“Heh, sorry, old habit.”

She could feel her smile fade as she turned away, and tried not to think about how tired she felt. “It’s fine. I just… could use a bit of a break from being a princess.”

Or, rather, she could use a break, period. It had been a long, anxious, terrifying ordeal of a day.

“So, uh… how do you do this one?” Varian asked, after some moments of her staring into the distance, where half of a shop and home had been crushed into rubble, the stone and clay now an ugly mass of broken things.

“O-oh, right!” The smile returned. “Okay, so, take my hand, and follow my lead.”

Holding hands, they began a quick light-hearted bourrée with toe touches in and out, normally in a large circle but they could make do with just the two of them. It didn’t last long, however, before being interrupted.

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

“Oof. Should have expected that,” Rapunzel said, hopping on one foot and rubbing her toes.

Varian gingerly lifted one heavy boot, and then the other, giving a sheepish laugh. “I’ll, uh, try not to do that again.”

They tried, again. The music picked up and they roughly kept pace, standing at arms length and both kicking up their feet and stamping down with great determination, with Varian’s leather apron and Rapunzel’s purple dress fluttering about their legs. It ‘s wasn’t long before Varian’s boot came down hard on her foot once more.

“Ohhhh, that one smarted,” Rapunzel muttered under her breath, leaning heavily on Varian’s shoulder and massaging the top of her foot, feeling the tendons ache as she flexed it.

“Sorry,” Varian said, softer.

Rapunzel was almost tempted to make a joke about it: like, that after all the trauma and pain of the day, it would be dancing that would send her to the infirmary. She was still collecting the words until she caught his expression.

“Hey, Varian? You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah!” he said, far too quickly, his smile too wide. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m good. You know, everything’s fine. Great, even!”

Rapunzel raised an eyebrow. “Okay… so really, what’s wrong? Is it about your dad?”

“No… or not right now.” He hesitated before sighing, rubbing the back of his neck with a glance downward. “Just… talking with Cass earlier reminded of all the trouble I’ve caused. How many people I hurt…”

“Varian, that’s all in the past. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, still not meeting her eyes. It wasn’t something they often talked about, and frankly Rapunzel preferred that way, leaving the past in the past where she didn’t have to think about it.

“She’s planning to leave, did you know?” Varian said abruptly. Rapunzel looked over her shoulder as if Cassandra might be running away that moment. But Cassandra and Eugene where as they had left them, talking rather than dancing in the dark night. “At least, assuming you don’t throw her in jail—“

“I wouldn’t do that!”

Varian have her a look so flat, it might have been road kill.

“Oh, uh… heh, right.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. The short strand slipped free again. “Sorry.”

He shrugged it off. “It’s fine. I deserved it. I mean, you kinda had to or I would have kept trying to destroy everything. But after what happened with the Saporians and what I did, I’d sometimes wonder if I should do the same. Just… leave. I’d wonder if anyone would care that I was gone, or if they’d just be glad to see the back of me.”

If the music still played, Rapunzel couldn’t hear it. Perhaps it was only the falling night that suddenly felt so cold. She had never imagined he might feel that way. Perhaps, if she had thought about it at all, she would have.

“Sometimes,” he said, almost too soft to hear, “sometimes, sitting in that cell, I wondered far worse. If I just… disappeared.”

She stood there, unmoving. What must it have been like, alone in a prison cell, not even knowing the fate of his father? His only family? She could almost see it lingering about him, an unspeakable darkness. Something cold and dangerous and lonely. Cassandra was not the only friend she had hurt and abandoned.

And then Rapunzel imagined if he had never returned. If he had disappeared and she never saw him again.

“Oh, Varian…”

“Huh?” The darkness slipped away. Varian blinked, startled by the sudden sound of tears in her voice. “Wha—it’s fine though! Hey, it’s like you said, it’s all in the past. Sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, I’m fine,” Rapunzel muttered, swiping at her eye. “There’s just been so much going on, and I’m just… tired. That’s all.”

“Come on, we should be celebrating! Weren’t you going to teach me this dance?”

Rapunzel had forgotten the music, and dancing suddenly felt unbearable. The dregs of energy she had been running on were no longer enough, and now she was exhausted and heartsick, and for no good reason.

The kingdom was safe. Eugene was safe. Cassandra had returned to them. Varian was still there, they all were. But the pain still clenched tight, and she felt overly sensitive, like overripe fruit soft to the touch.

“Raps?” Varian laid a hand on her shoulder, gentle despite the heavy leather glove.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her voice ugly and thick. Rapunzel laid her hand over his before he could pull away. “I honestly… if you were gone—“

“Hey, don’t think like that,” he said gently. “Everything worked out. You saved Corona. We’re all okay.”

“Yeah.” She nodded again, more to herself. Rapunzel again swiped at her eye and nodded. She was fine.

They were all fine.

After the worst of the feelings had settled, she looked up. Before she could doubt herself, she took one step forward and fell against Varian.

Varian let out a breath and rested his chin on her shoulder. He had grown taller, she realized.

“I’m sorry,” Rapunzel said, scrunching her face as she said it.

For a moment she thought he would wave off the apology, a little hitch of breath as if about to argue, and instead he went quiet and held on tighter. “Thanks, Rapunzel,” he murmured instead. “I’m sorry too.”

She smiled. It was a little like being forgiven, like a wall of ice that was continuing to thaw between them.

“And you’d better not think of leaving either,” Rapunzel said before backing off just enough to look him in the eyes, trying to sound admonishing.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, leaning forward to match Rapunzel’s own bowed head, their bangs brushing together. “Promise.”

“Good. And besides! I think we might need your help rebuilding,” Rapunzel said, falsely cheerful as she looked over to where a small building was gutted and bleak from the black rocks. They simultaneously winced. “If you’re… up to it.”

“You maybe could have used your magic to heal the kingdom and save us the effort.”

“I tried!” she said. “It helped a little.”

“I heard the bridge is unstable. That’s going to be bad if that collapses.”

Rapunzel let her head fall forward with a long, low groan, gripping his shoulders as if for support.

“We’ll get it fixed,” he said.

“It’s not the only thing that needs to be fixed,” Rapunzel said, glancing over. Cassandra and Eugene were apparently dancing together, strangely. Or possibly trying to maim each other’s feet with their boots. “Think she’ll let me talk to her?”

“I think you should try,” he said. “You know, back then you would have been insane not to lock me up. It took me a long time to get my head straight, but Cass? I think she’s already there. Or, well… she’s at least on the right path again.”

“Even if that path is away from me,” Rapunzel said softly.

“It might be what she needs right now. Maybe what you both need. Some time apart to clear your heads.”

“I’m just… afraid to lose her again,” she muttered, and wasn’t sure if Varian even heard. He was probably right, though.

Rapunzel took a deep breath and slowly let it out, steeling herself before quietly walking over. Her fiancé and former bodyguard and arch-enemy were still focused on trying to stomp on each others toes, apparently enjoying themselves. She coughed once, and that was enough for them to break apart with no small shock.

“Oh, Blondie! We were just… dancing.”

“Sure,” Cassandra said, squinting at him. Both were rubbing their hands as if they’d also been trying to crush each other’s grip.

“I uh, was wondering… Cass, can we…” A musical flourish caught her attention: a new song.

Rapunzel held out a hand towards her old friend. “May I have this dance?” she said, quickly flashing an apologetic look to Eugene—they would have other chances, other nights.

Cassandra looked as if she was being offered poisoned fruit. Eugene patted her on the back—they were apparently getting along again, which was nice—before she took Rapunzel’s hand and begrudgingly allowed herself to be pulled away.

This left the two boys standing awkwardly beside each other as the music played on. Neither was quite in the mood for more talking or emotional gut-punches.

“Now those two have the right idea,” Eugene said loudly, pointing towards the center of the square where Kiera and Catalina were skipping between the dancing pairs, hand in hand and going very fast.

Eugene looked to Varian. Varian met his questioning look.

Both shrugged, and clapped a hand to each other’s back—Varian stretching to reach—grasped their other hands tight, and began to violently two-step towards the innocent, unsuspecting crowd of dancers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Especially after a bit of this delay (can I blame Covid? It didn't really impact me but I'm gonna blame it anyway).  
> Next chapter is the last, and you can imagine which characters it'll focus on.  
> Comments always appreciated!  
> Take care!


End file.
